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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29992539">For Fucks Sake</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trudemaethien/pseuds/Trudemaethien'>Trudemaethien</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kriff Squad [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bets &amp; Wagers, Blood and Injury, Body Horror, Broken Bones, Canon-Implied Clone Training Abuse, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Drinking, Explicit Language, Gen, Graphic Description, Hijinks &amp; Shenanigans, Kaminoans Being Assholes (Star Wars), Mentioned Cuy'val Dar (Star Wars), Mild Gore, Names, Serious Injury to a Minor, Soldiers, Story within a Story</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:46:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,721</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29992539</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trudemaethien/pseuds/Trudemaethien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Rex just knows that his new shiny is not as sweet and innocent as everyone thinks. The kid named himself Tup, for crying out loud! It cannot be a mere coincidence; everyone knows what ‘tupping’ means.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>CC-2224 | Cody &amp; CT-7567 | Rex, CT-5385 | Tup &amp; Torrent Company (Star Wars), Cutup &amp; Droidbait &amp; Echo &amp; Fives &amp; Hevy (Star Wars)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kriff Squad [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2272949</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>107</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Fun/Humour/Crack in a Galaxy Far Far Away</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Wager</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Profanity and more profanity! This is silly and kinda rough, but I’m just writing for fun, here! The nsfw crowd on discord helped source some of the names and egged on this ridiculousness. Thanks, y’all.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This is how it started:</p><p>During a joint mission after action brief, (informal version, sans nat-born officers, and with the rest of Shebs Squad) Cody and Rex were discussing details. </p><p>Rex sighed, “No, vod, that shiny is actually literally named <em> Tup</em>. He absolutely knows what it means and has to have done it on purpose.”</p><p>Cody, the oblivious idiot, said, “No way, not that sweet, earnest kid! I bet it’s got a perfectly innocent origin story. He’s just a speedie; an innocent baby.”</p><p>Rex pounced on the opportunity, “Oh you <em> bet</em>, do you? How much you wanna wager, vod?”</p><p>Cody stubbornly folded his arms and frowned, “I’ll bet you... an unspecified favor.”</p><p>“Oooooooo!!” chorused the rest of the CC’s. An unspecified favor was the most valuable collateral to vod’e who do not get paid. </p><p>“You can't influence his story and it has to be told before witnesses, Rex,” Cody warned. </p><p>“Yeah fair and square. I <em>know</em> there's no way I'm wrong; you’re going to owe me a favor. I’m so sure, I’ll bet an unspecified favor in return,” Rex fired back. The shebse all hoot again. </p><p>“Oh I am going to enjoy collecting that, Rex’ika,” Cody grinned. </p><p>“In your dreams, <em>Kot’ika</em>,” Rex grinned back. </p><p> </p><p>This is how it went down, to begin with:</p><p>A chorus of groans went up around the table as Fives laid down his last card, “Read ‘em and weep, tubies!” he crowed. “Who lost? It’s storytime, pay up!”</p><p>The rest of the players scrambled to count their cards and report their totals to DB, the scorekeeper. </p><p>“Looks like... Tup,” he announced. The circle broke over, around, and under the card table, and reformed around tonight’s victim.  </p><p>“What’s it gonna be, kid?” Hevy prodded.</p><p>“Make it a real good one, vod,” Oz jibed.</p><p>“Tell us how you got your name!” Dogma called. </p><p>(“Wait, You don’t know how he got his name? Thought you two were batchers?” Denal asked. </p><p>“Nope, we were singles who got assigned here at the same time. He just attached himself to me on the ride in and wouldn’t quit. Actually we’re a whole cycle apart,” Dogma explained wryly. </p><p>“Whoa, weird,” mused Denal.)</p><p>“Yeah, Tup, please do. I’ve got a bet with Commander Cody riding on it,” said Rex. </p><p>“Really sir? What’s the bet?” Tup cocked his head inquisitively. </p><p>Rex snickered darkly, “That’d be telling, never you mind. I’ll make sure you get something good if I win, though, so let’s hear it, verd’ika.” </p><p>“It’s a long story,” Tup prevaricated, but this only served to whet his platoon’s interest more. They scooted closer, faces expectant. “Fine, gimme a drink first, though. Because in order to understand my name, I’m gonna have to tell you about all my batchers’ names too.”</p><p>“A whole batch-worth of namings? Dayum. For all that, you’ll need to be on center bunk for the next week at least!” enthused Nax.</p><p>“Ooh, yeah, stretch it out serial-like, Tup!” Koho urged.</p><p>“Sure, alright. Saves my voice if I do it a little at a time.”</p><p>“That’s what they say,” insinuated Ridge and everyone groaned at the paltry sex joke. Tup ignored the byplay. </p><p>“Now who should I start with...”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Tup’s Batcher 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The first evening of storytime! Enjoy.<br/>(I don’t feel like writing the mando’a translations for this crackfic; if you don’t know it and wanna, ask me in comments.)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Now who should I start with...” They all waited as Cutup handed him a canteen. Tup sipped, coughed, blinked, and thumped his sternum with a fist. </p><p>“Whew, Jesse!” he gasped. </p><p>“Yeah, vod, that’s the good shit, ain’t it?” Jesse was supremely proud of his still.  </p><p>“Imma clean my boots with it later, shabad, kark you kindly,” Tup choked out.</p><p>“Aww, you’re a sweary little monster tonight, arencha, vod’ika?” Jesse teased.</p><p>Tup swigged another drink before he passed the canteen along. He gestured rudely at Jesse and winced as he swallowed at the same time. A ripple of laughter went around the vod circle. </p><p>“Okay! So no shit, there we were, balls deep in saltwater, third cycle.”</p><p>“So, like last week,” interrupted Del who promptly got smacked.</p><p>“Threes don’t got gett’se, di’kut!” taunted Ince, who got elbowed off his seat for the comment. </p><p>Tup raised his voice to be heard over the shenanigans, “And we were running laps outside because we were a bunch of mouthy little shits. Ah heck getoff, don’t hug me, Cahoots, it was barely raining! And we were still being idiots on the scaffolds outside because of course we were, obviously. Being a Three is hell; it’s gotta be genetic.”</p><p>“Fucking Fett,” they all chorus. It’s a common refrain. </p><p>“Anyway, vod 7 of my batch (I was still vod 3 then) got ahead of us around a bend and when we caught up, he wasn’t there anymore.”</p><p>“No!” Sterling cried out.</p><p>“He didn’t fall off did he?” Zeer worried.</p><p>“Oh SHIT!” Ayar said.</p><p>“Karking di’kut!” Lucky opined.</p><p>“Shut up! Let Tup tell the story!” Dogma shushed.</p><p>“Yeah so we were all scared out of our minds because we thought a sea monster had eaten him or something.</p><p>(5)‘Gotta run faster so we don’t get eaten!’ one vod said,</p><p>and another said, (1)‘No, we have to rescue him,’</p><p>(4)‘then we’ll <em>all</em> be eaten.’</p><p>(6)‘Maybe we should turn around and go back.’</p><p>(9)‘To the trainer? Outta your mind!’”</p><p>Tup shifted positions, facial expressions, and voices for each of his batchers, signing their batch numbers in battlesign as he went. The platoon was giggling at the adorable characters he portrayed. Tup’s batch was now the new favorite vod’e of Torrent. </p><p>Tup resumed his own narrator position, and continued, “While we were arguing, I saw something out of the corner of my eye, at the end of the dock.”</p><p>The entire story circle leaned forward. </p><p>“It was obviously a tentacle, because I was firmly convinced of the sea monster hypothesis. I could barely breathe and I definitely wasn’t thinking, because I meant to shout a warning, but what I managed to say was not very helpful, just...,”</p><p>He paused and cleared his throat, “Hey, pass the canteen back, my throat’s dry.”</p><p>He was immediately pelted with barracks detritus and jeers but someone did shove the canteen at him, saying “Hurry up, vod, you asshole, stopping at the best part!”</p><p>“What I managed to strangle out was one word, and I guess it <em>was</em> somewhat relevant...” he trailed off again.</p><p>“What did you say, vod,” loudly chorused at least half of the listeners. </p><p>“I said, (3)‘DOCK!’” Tup admitted, smiling sheepishly. He didn’t hesitate to battlesign his own batch number when the story version of him spoke, and affected a high kids’ voice for little-himself as well.</p><p>“No way. You idiot,” Attie sneered disbelievingly.</p><p>“Shut UP, fool,” Hardcase reprimanded.</p><p>“And good thing all my batchers were on the same stupid wavelength as me because they all turned and looked at the dock, just in time for the tentacle to turn out to be actually just the arm of vod 7 as he clambered up, salt soaked.”</p><p>“So it wasn’t a sea monster,” Ringo sounded relieved.</p><p>“You mean it was. A vod sea monster,” Redeye sassed.</p><p>“And he just said, ‘You called?’ And from then on his name was Dock,” Tup finished.</p><p>The story time ended in more jeers and friendly insults and another round of the canteen before they all bedded down. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Tup’s Batchers 2 and 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tonight on All My Batchers, it’s a double feature! </p><p>Okay, so I said I wasn’t gonna mando translate but I know jarela isn’t that common and I’m using it a couple times. So it means reckless deathwish and can be used jokingly or seriously.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>This is how they kept it going:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next night, Echo suggested skipping the card game so Tup had time to tell two stories. Everyone was on board and the illicit beverage canteen appeared without being requested.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tup saluted the bunkroom with the flask, swigged, passed it off, and flopped down onto his bunk to begin the next episode of All My Batchers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All around him, brothers were fiddling with packs or fixing equipment in preparation for their next mission. Despite their occupied hands, their ears perked intently, ready for the evening’s entertainment.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, see what had happened was, we were brand new Twos, cutting our big teeth and constantly asking obnoxious questions. And vod 2 was the worst. Furthermore, this little vod had a Hero.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no,” input Vaize. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah. He was starry-eyed for one of the ori’verd. Not only that, but he was not a follower of just any cadet. He went for Rancor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shooting far out, was he sniper coded?” queried Rex. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, I think he actually was, yeah, sir. Anyway. Even then, he didn’t go for just </span>
  <em>
    <span>any</span>
  </em>
  <span> Rancor vod. Nope,” Tup snagged the drink and sipped, managing to diminish his wince at the harsh burn this time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Naturally, protest arose at the delay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Which Rancor?” Coric insisted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cut it out, Tuppy-face,” Cameron insulted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do this every time,” Vere complained. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Drama bitch,” Flash accused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quit stringing it out,” Carapace pleaded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, just spit it out already,” Lunn sniped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, alright! Dang, keep your blacks on,” Tup paused again, just long enough to start pissing the hecklers off again but not long enough for them to escalate into violence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He had eyes only for Hammer,” Tup announced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ballsy little kriffer,” Ged muttered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hammer ain’t got no time for that!” crowed Ayar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, no he absolutely did not. But my vod 2 was kriffing relentless. Always on the heels of his favorite ori’vod, pestering him with ‘How?’ and ‘Why?’ nonstop. Until one day, big old, mean-looking ARC Hammer turned around and snarled, ‘Kid if you do not quit crawling up my kama, I will pound you so hard they will not even find the shrapnel of you off the leeward side of Tipoca, so help me ka’ra!’”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lemme guess, the vod 2 got named Kam,” Fives drawled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Crawler,” DB argued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lee or Leeward?” guessed Ged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shrapnel?” Hardcase put in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kara maybe,” Lucky mused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Haha, nope, nope, nope, nope, and nope.” Tup smirked at them, “A Hammer. Pounds... What?” He smirked some more and inspected his knuckles nonchalantly. The circle muttered mutinously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tup relented, “Vod 2 of my batch chose the name Nail. He hoped he’d get assigned to Rancor and get to be Hammer’s sidekick, and was pretty disappointed when we figured out that names and assignments don’t work like that.” </span>
</p><p>“We got time for one more, vod’ika, as long as it’s quick.” Kix instructed, checking the chrono. </p><p>
  <span>“It’ll be quick as long as these di’kute quit adding color commentary!” Tup needled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just start telling already!” called Coric.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And if you quit hamming up the drama,” Charger added.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sh, shut up! Go, Tup,” Denal urged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So there we were, right after Geonosis. We didn’t go cuz we were still late-Fourthers, but we saw ‘em straggle back, and we were all excited to hear the glory stories, until we found out they were really actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>gory</span>
  </em>
  <span> stories. But before we lost our taste for it, we heard enough. And vod 9 got righteously pissed at everything about the droids, as one does. He especially got stuck on how they said, “Roger, roger,” all the time and decided the word was too good for seppies, and he was gonna reclaim it for the good guys. So vod 9 became Roger.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What!” several voices cried at once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was shocked and disbelieving laughter around the circle, as if they weren’t sure how funny they found it. Ironic, certainly, but maybe not humorous? Tup hastened to calm the unease. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We tried to talk him out of it for weeks, vod’e! He was completely atin’jarela about it though, so we switched to mocking him instead, til the alpha instructors said his name was fine and gonna be approved and we should back our brother up, not cut him down. Even if he did pick a di’kut name.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>More laughter, more relaxed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So yeah, Roger. Kriffing di’kut.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright traat, that’s it, everyone to bed, medic’s orders! Gimme that, thanks!” barked Kix, confiscating the rotgut liquor. “Oh kark thirty wakeup call tomorrow, watch your eyelids while you can!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rex added another set of data points to his hypothesis. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Tup’s Batchers 4 and 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Because I’m me, this one got a wee bit angsty; sorry from the depths of my shriveled black heart. Not upping the rating, but please note the updated tags, and that this chapter contains the canon-implied TLC of the Kaminoans and Cuy’val Dar, plus description of traumatic injuries. As always, take care of your mental health and read as you will.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This is how it continued away from barracks:</p><p>The next chance for Torrent story hour came more than a day later, in the field. It was a colder planet, but not too icy. They sprawled around a heating unit on stacks of crates and swapped parts of their field rations according to preference, applying hot sauce profusely all around. </p><p>“Eat up, Tuppy-Tup,” encouraged Del, “so you can tell us some more story.”</p><p>Tup looked around at the nods of agreement, smiled, nodded, and started shovelling his food down faster. </p><p>“No <em> extra </em>beverages planetside, kiddo, but I’ve got a green drink powder mix if you want some; don’t choke on your chow,” Jesse offered, sliding in close to Tup. Tup nodded, mouth full. </p><p>He finished his food in record time and enjoyed a little of the tart-flavored drink.</p><p>He grinned malevolently around the circle of faces and opened with, “See, what had happened was-,”</p><p>A chorus of groans erupted immediately. </p><p>“Oh NO,” gasped Ringo.</p><p>“Not one a those, ye little gods!” Sterling implored.</p><p>“Bloody bugfucking shit-turbine time, bring it ON!” Hevy cheered. </p><p>Tup snickered. There were only so many ways to start a GAR story, and this one, delivered in this tone, promised trouble. </p><p>“-what had <em> happened </em> was, we were new Fourthers, running the obstacle route 42Jenth all-day trial, the 5 klick loop where you don’t stop til you drop? Well. I saw flashes of it as I went by, and heard about it in full only after I dropped at 11.”</p><p>“Eleven’s not too shabby, kid,” Rex complimented.</p><p>“Thanks, sir!” chirped Tup.</p><p>Composing himself again to narrate, Tup continued, “Wish we coulda stopped to help but the Trainer on deck was one of the ones who woulda penalized us all for assistance and decommed whoever’s fault it was. So we found out at the end of the run it was vod 4 who finished last, even though he only just managed to complete the eight iterations/40 klicks to pass. Because this jareor’diniila shabod. Slipped and fell near the end of his 6th iteration. Off the 8th climb, you guys remember the one?”</p><p>“Fuck- the tall, skinny crooked bit?” Kix straightened up, alarmed. </p><p>“With the streams of water?” Carapace added.</p><p>“And he didn’t DIE?” Vere said, aghast.</p><p>“So he <em> says </em> he was less than halfway up, (which I am not sure I believe and is not verifiable) and managed to twist around so he landed okay. And by landed okay, the di’kut meant he only broke both bones of his forearm and dislocated his shoulder, left side.”</p><p>“They extracted him, then?” Coric asked, hushed. </p><p>“Nah they couldn’t have,” Koho decided. </p><p>“Not decommed, and he was the last standing, Tup said,” Attie reasoned. </p><p>“How the fuck?” Oz wanted to know. </p><p>“He,” and Tup shakes his head in astonishment even now, “tore off his tunic with his kriffing <em> teeth </em> and relocated his shoulder, then shoved his bones back into his arm- yeah they broke skin, stuck all the way out, vod 0 saw it, and he had a wicked scar later- set it by tying the hand of his injured arm to his foot to pull the bones back into place. He bound the break with wide strips, cussing up a storm that there was nothing like a splint to use, and then tied the whole mess to his torso. And then he went back up the route and kept going for over a whole ‘nother lap, <em> one handed</em>.”</p><p>“Jareor’diniila shabuir is right!” Nax whispered reverently. </p><p>“That’s ARC material right there,” admired Zeer. </p><p>“Actually they sent him to medic training,” Tup replied. </p><p>“Yeah, that’s legit,” pronounced Redeye.</p><p>“Medics represent!” Kix gloated and Coric high-fived him. </p><p>“So what’d he name himself? Jareor’dinii?” Ridge quipped. </p><p>“42Jenth?” Hez snarked. </p><p>“Bones,” Tup responded simply. </p><p>“Ayyy, that <em> is </em> a good medic name!” Hardcase cheered.</p><p>“Now that you’ve got everyone hyped up, is there another one you can tell to get us ready to sleep, Tup?” Jesse asked. </p><p>“Hmm, yeah,” Tup said after a moment of consideration. “Yeah, I’ve got it, lieutenant.”</p><p>“Okay, everybody, sack up, settle down,” Jesse ordered. “One last tale before curfew. Cutup, Charger, reminder that you’ve got first sentry rotation, starting at curfew. Hez, Mixer, police call the AO real quick and then you can bed down too. Everyone else knows the watch roster, yeah? Good. Then, you have the floor, oh renowned storyteller; enthrall us.”</p><p>Tup waited, not long, for Mixer and Hez to finish picking up any rubbish and settle down in their bed rolls too. </p><p>“It was a dark and stormy day, Kamino norm, and like good little Ones or Twos, we were diligently cramming flash training modules, when a shadow loomed over us, cast by the glaring white Kaminiise lights.”</p><p>His brothers giggled and crooned mockingly at his over the top attempt at a spooky tone. </p><p>He ate it up and kept overdramatizing, “We barely dared to turn our heads to see. It was no tall longneck shadow, to our vast relief. Out of the corner of my eye, I could <em> just </em> glimpse the unfortunate vod who had unwittingly drawn the attention of a Trainer. It was my vod 8! He was swaying, rocking gently in his seat. The Trainer set his hand on 8’s shoulder and we all suddenly knew, with a sinking feeling in our gut, that he was gonna be our first decom. We tried not to look.”</p><p>“But he’s not gonna get decommed, right?” fretted Cahoots.</p><p>“He’s getting a name, no, shhh,” soothed Vaize. </p><p>“A Trainer named one of your batch?” wondered Lunn.</p><p>“A Trainer paid that kind of attention to a Little cadet?” questioned Flash. </p><p>“Which Trainer was it, Tup? A Baji’vod?”inquired Ince.</p><p>“Yeah, it was a vod, but one who was scarred and older than any other we’d ever seen before. A Null, we figured, later. Skirata was stalking around the other side of the auditorium that day too.”</p><p>“Holy kriff,” muttered Mixer. </p><p>“I wonder which Null,” Hevy pondered. </p><p>“Does it matter? What’d he do to your vod, he grabbed his shoulder, then what?” Cutup demanded. </p><p>Tup answered, “He just leaned over him and detached his earpiece in order to converse quietly with him for a minute, and then left. We were all tense and paranoid the rest of the day, waiting for the overloaded hypo to hiss. Nothing happened as all the long hours dragged by. At bed down, vod 8 was still there, and that’s when he told us his name was now Tango.”</p><p>“Tango? Why?” puzzled Ayar. </p><p>“He’d heard some background music in the cultural module, said it made him feel like he had to move his body or he’d fall apart. The ori’vod had told him about how dancing was part of fighting but to save the moves for the training mat.”</p><p>“Awww, that’s kriffing adorable,” cooed Cameron.</p><p>“I don’t believe it! Highly unlikely,” Flash blurted. </p><p>“What the heck do you know?” snapped Dogma. </p><p>“Nulls don’t name Littles who dance,” insisted Flash.</p><p>“You trying to tell me I’m making crap up about something as important as my batcher’s Naming, huh?” Tup flushed darkly, a sign of his rare temper. </p><p>“Hey now, both of you calm your tits, that is not what you meant to insinuate, is it trooper? No one is doubting anyone here,” Rex intervened. “It was a good story, and a nice Naming for us to dream about tonight. Thank Tup for sharing the story, vod’e.” </p><p>“Thanks,” mumbled a platoon’s-worth of nearly identical voices, interspersed with other words of gratitude and good nights. </p><p>“Suum ca’nara bal jatne manda, wherever you are right now, Tup’s batcher Tango,” Flash murmured apologetically. </p><p>“Thanks,” whispered Tup, seconding the prayer.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Tup’s Batcher 0</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Can y’all tell how much fun I am having with all the said-words? /s<br/>Hope you enjoy the new name and all the interactions!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This is how it lightened the mood:</p><p>Jesse had snagged Tup after the mission and told him they might need to take a break from the Naming stories for a little while, to let things settle down in the platoon. Just a few days, to get back on an even keel after the fight. Tup wasn’t sure if he meant the fight against the Seps, or the in-platoon spat, and decided he did not require clarification. He could use a few days to quash down the recollections of the harsher Kaminoan training tactics, himself. </p><p>So it was nearly a tenday and two short campaigns later, before he embarked on the storytelling jaunt again. </p><p>They were morosely playing cards for no stakes, bored out of their buckets, when Hardcase tapped the toe of his boot against Kix’s knee, who then poked Jesse. The lieutenants had a brief, silent, combative conversation, and then Jesse cleared his throat. </p><p>“Hey, Tup, wanna tell another Naming? You got half your batch left.”</p><p>Tup startled at being addressed and looked up. He was mid-braid, hands tangled in his hair, tongue stuck out in concentration. </p><p>“You don’t have to, if you don’t wanna, of course,” Kix allowed. </p><p>Tup glanced around the room, seeking out the worst of the hecklers and checking specifically on Flash. They all looked more or less neutral, no one seemed opposed, and Tup had really liked sharing stories. “Sure,” he agreed, “lemme just finish my hair.”</p><p>“So who wants to help Tup finish his hair?” Rex recruited. </p><p>“Who can braid without pulling!” Tup squawked the additional criteria hastily. Over half the volunteers subsided.</p><p>He ended up wedged between Denal, Lucky, and Fives, and wondered what kind of lopsided pattern his ‘rows were going to end up in this time. Oh well. </p><p>“Today I think Imma tell you about my vod 0. He chose his name for a trait rather than an event.” Denal showed him the end of a braid so Tup handed him the packet of hair ties. </p><p>“By the time we were late-Threes, we were into all the usual trouble, you know. Smuggling, betting, equip-swapping, illicit artwork, et cetera. Vod 0, was a card shark.”</p><p>“His name was Shark then?” Ged proposed.</p><p>“Shut up, don’t be rude,” Dogma scolded.</p><p>“Story’s just getting started, course not,” Attie remonstrated.</p><p>“He could fleece us and anyone else for whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. He was really clever, had a mathematical mind and top marks in pattern recognition. He counted cards, invented games. He’d mess with us. Lose sometimes, to lull us and he could manipulate anyone he wanted into winning instead of him, too.” </p><p>“If you were always losing…,” equivocated Lunn </p><p>“Nobody wants to play cards with somebody like that,” Charger finished the thought.</p><p>“Yeah, well, no. He was really fun to play games with, actually. Some of our games were partner or team games, and he helped us beat other squads sometimes. On his own, he was never mean about besting anyone. He passed around the winnings more often than he kept them and never took advantage of favors. I mean he did use a favor if he won it, but he didn’t overuse, if you know what I mean. Often enough he volunteered to keep score instead of play. One time, dealing for sabbacc, he made an offhand comment that he was always either scoring or keeping score, and then got a thoughtful look on his face. We all thought we were about to get cleaned out then and there, but he was distracted for the rest of the game and quit playing after. He still played masterfully, of course, but he didn’t seem as delighted by his machinations as usual.”</p><p>“Delighted...machinations? Vod’ika, I want an introduction,” Fives implored and Hardcase nodded emphatically. </p><p>“Do not. Please don’t,” Kix groaned, rubbing his temples. </p><p>Tup grinned, simultaneously innocent and vicious, “Of course! If we ever run across him, I wanna see you assholes get cleaned out, addlepated, and thoroughly...debriefed.” He did not mean mission debriefing; his expression clearly conveyed that he meant <em>pantsed</em>. “It’ll be <em> amazing</em>,” he concluded.</p><p>Fives looked slightly terrified but also slightly enamored. Rex internally decided these particular brothers must not be allowed to meet, at any cost. </p><p>“So you still haven’t told the Naming part yet, Tup,” Nax reminded.</p><p>“Yeah, spill, what’s his name?” nudged Oz.</p><p>“Oh, right. It took him a couple days to settle it with himself, but he told us during a card game, because how else could he have done it? Where you’d typically say, ‘I’m out’ he said ‘And I’m… Score,’ as he laid down his last run. He always did have that showmanship sense of drama.”</p><p>“Can’t imagine how you’re related, Tup,” Mixer snarked.</p><p>“Yeah, not a clue, Dramatup,” drawled Carapace.</p><p>“Makes him a good storyteller, though,” Sterling pointed out.</p><p>“There is that, good point,” agreed Ringo.</p><p>“To our benefit,” praised Cutup.</p><p>“Thanks, vod’e,” Tup capitulated, accepting the compliments with a pleased flush. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Tup’s Batcher 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“So! There we were, balls deep in smoking debris!”<br/>Torrent is rowdy tonight.<br/>Have some boom bunnies and more of my batch headcanons.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This is how it (sort of) got them in trouble with the Jedi:</p><p>“So! There we were, balls deep in smoking debris!” Tup projected exuberantly at max volume as he swaggered into the barracks on the heels of a long and boring shift, in lieu of hello.</p><p>He’d been teased all day about a story tonight, and was therefore leaning deliberately into the allegations of drama. </p><p>The reactions were immensely fulfilling.</p><p>More than half of the platoon’s fight reflexes activated. Eight brothers rolled off their bunks into ready crouches; no less than three others fell off their bunks gracelessly. There was an impressive blare of vocal responses, varying from low to high, all loud. </p><p>When they registered the threat as just him and his shit-eating grin, a cacophony of curses arose.</p><p>He strutted into the bay, preening and quite pleased with the comradely abuse they were heaping upon him. </p><p>“Besmirching my vat? You ought to be ashamed of your mouth, vod. Whew, noice! I’ll have to remember that one,” Tup chuckled. </p><p>“Wait, wait, didja I hear you say SMOKING DEBRIS?” Hardcase bellowed from the other corner of the room.</p><p>“Heck yeah I did, vod!” Tup shouted back. </p><p>“Shut up! Nejohaa! We need to hear this! Shut your slagging slop-holes!” boomed Hardcase. This only served to increase the mayhem. </p><p>From outside the bay door, an unexpected voice cut through the uproar, “What’s all the hullabaloo? Is everything ...alright in here?” the speaker faltered as they came into view and took in the bedlam. The din abruptly subsided into shocked silence. </p><p>“General Kenobi! No, sir! I mean, yes, sir, uh, situation nominal,” Rex barked, leaping to attention and saluting. </p><p>The High General of the 3rd Army, who was decidedly not listed on their current manifest of on board personnel, surveyed the disarray of their barracks, his skeptical gaze nonverbally refuting this assertion. He let it drop after a moment, “Well, if you say so, Captain. Carry on.” He paused and then clarified, “Perhaps at a lower decibel, you understand.”</p><p>“Loud and clear, sir,” assured Rex.</p><p>“There’s no questioning <em> that </em>, certainly,” the General riposted, and smoothly extracted himself from their quarters. </p><p>Only when they collectively felt that the superior officer vibes had sufficiently departed, did the oppressive bubble burst and quiet conversations resumed. </p><p>Rex exhaled heavily to release the adrenaline rush of the impromptu inspection they had just summarily failed. They probably wouldn’t be in much trouble, if any, but still. It was not optimal to startle fighting men. </p><p>Tup took stock. They needed a distraction, and he figured he could keep the volume level down despite the explosiveness of this particular tale. </p><p>“So,” he repeated, clearing his throat and projecting his voice at a level more appropriate to a bay this size than his previous battlefield piercer, “there we were, balls deep, in smoking debris.” He broadly signed Trust Me/I’ve Got This, Op Lead, when Rex whipped around to pin him with a fiercely disapproving look. The Captain considered him and then tilted his head permissively. </p><p>“As late Threes, we shouldn’t have had access to even close to enough available ordinance to produce such a field of destruction, surely!” He paused, smirked, and added, “Key word, <em> should </em>.”</p><p>Around him brothers were settling down from the uncanny encounter with an unexpected jedi. Laughter came sluggishly, but the atmosphere was recovering swiftly. </p><p>“I can’t tell you how we got the stuff, or where- trade secrets,” Tup teased.</p><p>“Awww c’mon!” whined Vere.</p><p>“Don’t be a spoilsport,” jabbed Zeer.</p><p>“To be quite honest, I wasn’t in charge of it. Vod 5 had A Plan,” Tup took several moments to illustrate the complexity of The Plan with extensive air calculations, analytical squinting, and simulated stacks of datapads. The miming netted him a rumble of chuckles from around the bay. “My bit was that I was assigned to the ‘ponics that cycle and vod 5 wanted fertilizer, for some odd reason.”</p><p>There were knowing grins and growing murmurs of acknowledgement all around. Most of them recognized the active ingredient of improvised explosives.</p><p>“The organizers made sure to keep boom bunnies out of the ‘ponics rotation for exactly this reason. That op is a story all on it’s own but today I’m telling Vod 5’s Naming, so suffice it to say, that (eventually) I was successful (enough).” He stage whispered the qualifiers aside and got another ripple of giggles. </p><p>“Gotta remember that one for another time,” said Ince. </p><p>“Yeah tell us later,” Cameron chimed in.</p><p>“‘Ponics shenanigans, noted,” Del pretended to write on an imaginary datapad. </p><p>“But right now it’s Boom Time, baby!” Cahoots hooted. </p><p>“Shhh or Kenobi will ghost in again,” Vaize warned. </p><p>“Boom Time,” whispered Cahoots.</p><p>“You’re a kriffing moron, you know that, vod?” Hez gently smacked Cahoots. </p><p>“So the objective was to make mess without injury, to get back at our neighboring batch for… well, something they did.” Tup said. </p><p>“Also prank stories, probably plural, noted,” Del added to their imaginary list. </p><p>“Those Other Batchers were the worst and they deserved it!” Tup insisted. “Anyway, so Vod 5 was the one who came up with the idea and xe did all the calculations and even made some scaled down test puff-bombs. I learned a lot, chemistry was more xir thing, and physics more mine, but this project had quite a bit of crossover.”</p><p>“Wait, but <em> you’re </em> a boom bunny, Tup,” Hevy protested. </p><p>“Yeah, well… but I was a <em> stealth </em> boom bunny til then. The org figured it out after that, though.”</p><p>“Anyway, Vod 1 and Dock took turns with Tango and Nail to chart enemy movements, Score got pigments, Vod 9 got scents, and Bone and Vod 6 were tapped to place the elements that Vod 5 and I (3) had constructed. </p><p>Then we waited for them to get back from latemeal, and settled in for the night-cycle.”</p><p>Tup paused and coughed, “Storytelling is thirsty work,” he hinted and someone handed him the unmarked contraband canteen. “Cheers!” he said and tossed back a slug of sharp liquor. </p><p>By now the homemade brew barely even phased him, and Rex had the passing thought that Tup really couldn’t be counted as shiny anymore. But until they got new troops, he and Dogma were still the shiniest. </p><p>“So Those Other Batchers finally laid down to sleep and 6 and Bone infilled. They were med-slated and the steadiest. Even the scouts (Tango and Dock) couldn’t be quieter. The Others <em> weren’t </em> sleeping, that was the beauty of the thing. Our vod’e made the strategic emplacements and withdrew. And then Vod 5 walked right up to their door as blatant as you please and when they all looked at him askance, he said, “Ba-Bang.” in this deadpan voice and his hands in full view. We triggered the explosives on cue and the room became: </p><p>Aurek) utterly enveloped in clouds of glittering green, and </p><p>Besh) flooded with the perfume of bacta and fish guts.”</p><p>“No!” Lunn shouted in disgust.</p><p>“Ew!” Ged shrieked.</p><p>“Wayii!” laughed Droidbait.</p><p>“Ugh!” Dogma surmised. </p><p>“Why?” Naz questioned the Force. </p><p>“The cruelty!” bemoaned Ayar.</p><p>“Wicked!” exulted Carapace</p><p>A dozen other exclamations of disgust bounced around the room. </p><p>“And thus Bang inaugurated his name!” Tup said with a flourish.</p><p>“Your entire batch got double extra rations of drama, didn't they?” Redeye measured out laconically. </p><p>“Ha, pretty much, yeah,” Tup answered, not at all ashamed, but then he added with a touch of chagrin, “Though Those Other Batchers got us back. The next week they packed all our cloth gear into nets and used our weighted plastoid to sink it to the bottom of the aiwa breeding grounds. After having to dive naked through the stuff, I never want to see or touch or smell caviar ever again, and if anyone wants to try and use that against me, be warned I shall retaliate with extreme prejudice and drama. Not a single one of you could afford to start that war with me.”</p><p>Rex looked around the room, making eye contact with every single vod, “Do not,” he ordered. “One war is enough.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Tup’s Batcher 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>This is how they pass the time in hyperspace:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Growth Day was always the worst, remember?” Hardcase reminisced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Yeah, we had this one vod in our batch, wait, hey, I haven’t told this one yet! It’s vod 6’s Naming, make sure everybody who wants to hear is around, you guys,” called Tup.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A couple troopers started trying to figure out how to gather everyone, and Rex rolled his eyes, “Hey Sol’traat! Muster!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well that's one way to do it,” Tup conceded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s going on, we got orders?” Attie puffed. Muster time was 30s. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah it’s story time, cadets,” Hardcase beamed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Awesome!” Attie brightened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was hoping for some action,” Koho pouted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll give you some action, vod,” jeered Zeer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sit down and shut up for storytime,” Jesse reproached, cuffing Zeer and Koho both. They sat down and shut up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tup got comfortable, “So LT Hardcase was just saying how much Growth Day sucked, and I was reminded of my vod 6’s Naming. So what happened was, vod 6 was a shrimp. He did fall within parameters after every growth day, but on the low end of acceptable. He would joke about being pilot-coded, but our batch was slated for ground, not air. Until our Fourther growth day; he got so sick, we thought he might bite it. We all tried to help him out, extra fluids, tell him k’atini, y’know. What can you do? He panted and cried all night long, poor vod. In the morning...,” Tup paused and whispered, “<em>drama,</em>” and titters broke out, cutting through some of the tension.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...he wasn’t dead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Relieved breaths gusted out in unison.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Same</span>
  </em>
  <span>. We were all relieved beyond measure. We hadn’t lost anyone yet, and we were dreading the day. But he didn’t die.” Tup paused again and visibly shook off the somber tone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He continued in a more playful manner, “Vod 6 had not died; he had </span>
  <em>
    <span>grown</span>
  </em>
  <span>, a LOT. Like six-inches-taller-a-lot, and proportionally wider too. He had </span>
  <em>
    <span>crazy</span>
  </em>
  <span> stretch marks, and his bones ached like mad for a couple of weeks longer than the rest of us but he was on the tall end of the spectrum all of a sudden. He was pretty happy with it, glad he wasn’t teetering on the edge of the chopping block anymore, but there was an unforeseen side effect.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tup grinned around the room. This was the best part of storytelling: bringing joy to his family’s faces.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was not proficient to operate his new model! He fell out of his bunk when he tried to climb in, he tripped over his own huge feet, he ran into doorways. He’d turn too fast and crash, or misjudge a distance and stumble over nothing. His entire body was suddenly like an unwieldy puppet, or... a deep sea jelly trying to climb the rockshore!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was pretty proud of the ridiculous comparison he’d just come up with, and the fact that everyone was smiling at the images he’d painted for them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “The tottering and flailing only lasted for a day or three, easy enough for us to cover, but the change to his center of mass made him need to adjust his fighting style quite drastically. We all know the adjustments we gotta make post-growth, but this was an </span>
  <em>
    <span>Adjustment</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fortunately for us, we’re fast learners and by the time the next growth day, mid-cycle, came around, he was steady and controlled in all his movements. He wanted one of the medic slots, so it was extra important for him to refine his motor skills. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the apprehension was thick that evening. Was mega-pain/mega-growth gonna happen again this time? Or maybe he wouldn’t grow enough and average back? We pulled our bedding down and piled together that night, regulations be karked. We managed to sleep through the worst of it, and lined up for stat record recalibration in the morning. All of us, blessedly including Vod 6, stayed on our current growth projections, nothing abnormal like the leap he’d done last growth day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All around Tup, Torrent nodded and murmured approval and congratulations as though vod 6 could hear them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That night, he sat in his bunk flipping a razor blade pensively. When he finally spoke up, he said, “I don’t want to forget last time. It’s what got me here, and I think I ought to commemorate it. So I’m going with the name you all teased me I’d have, back then.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My name is Tumble,” he said decidedly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We of course protested a little because we’d only been teasing, but he pretended to not hear any of it, and wouldn’t respond to anything, not even his number, hey you, or a poke to the ribs, except Tumble.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Tup’s Batcher 1, and a Realization</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Bedtime stories</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This is how they got riled up:</p><p>“Remember Dock, the first story I told? Well, Vod 1 got named just a week after Dock pranked us and didn’t drown. We were scheduled for Theoretical Improvised and Arcane Weaponry, aka weird stuff we probably won’t ever handle, in the mid-to-late time slot. It was Vod 1’s turn as designated note-taker to endure the monotone, monocolor, droid presentation so the rest of us could study the void.”</p><p>Around the room heads were nodding, recalling the dreary classes and the normal way of handling them. Things that weren’t common knowledge couldn’t be flash-trained effectively. Flash training was for things like language or basic math: practical, entrenched skills. If they tried to imprint a flash memory of a fact a person knew but didn’t use, the flash knowledge wore off too fast to be useful. So they underwent plenty of long-form classroom subjects in addition to their tactical and physical training. <br/>However, vod’e conveyed information to each other much more efficiently than droids did, so they rotated through learning the material and teaching it so the rest of the squad could partake in other activities. Sleep was the most popular pastime; but they also used the stolen pockets of time for a multitude of sins. </p><p>“If it was fate that this specific vod sat in on this specific lesson, then fate is a dirty rotten pedant. Vod 1 fell deeply in <em> love </em>. He became inordinately obsessed with everything to do with archery. Do you guys remember what archery is?” Tup queried.</p><p>“With the pointy feathers?” Cahoots ventured.</p><p>“And the ...flinging?” guessed Oz.</p><p>“You mean it’s not the one where you drop architecture onto unsuspecting foes?” snarked Charger.</p><p>“Shut up, di’kut,” laughed Vere.</p><p>Tup cut in, “My entire batch knows <em>all</em> about it, in <em>detail</em>. We know ridiculously obscure things like the ductility of various species of wood versus metal or polyplast staves, or the relative quality of wire or gut strings in single and compound formations, or the right kind of rock and technique to chip arrowheads, or how to calculate optimum draw strength... anyway!<br/>Whenever vod 1 started yapping about his pet ranged projectile fixation, we’d all start nodding and stealthily dispersing, trying not to be the last vod left, the one who’d get stuck listening to the diatribe. He knew what we were up to and put up with it for the most part, but one day he snagged the escapees, herded us all together and said, ‘No, this one is important, and I’ll keep it short, promise.’</p><p>We settled down warily. ‘When you shoot an arrow, you have to place it on the string and hold it there steady so it can be impelled forward. There’s a notch at the non-pointy end of the arrow to facilitate this. Both the notch and the action of placing the arrow in preparation for shooting, are called <em> Nock </em>. And I want it to be my name.’</p><p>We let that thought impact for a moment and then our heads swivelled as one to look at Dock. ‘Up to <em> me </em>?’ he asked, all incredulous. </p><p>‘It’d make us sound like tubie-twins.’ Vod 1 fidgeted. </p><p>‘Well obviously you came from the indecisive side of our tube, <em> Nock </em> ,’ And I’m telling you, Torrent, the look on his face was the sweetest thing; he was <em>so baby</em> we all wanted to croon.”</p><p>“Awww,” nearly the entire room chorused.</p><p>Tup continued narrating, “‘Hadta ask, didn’t I?’ Nock bluffed over the tears in his eyes. </p><p>‘Nah, twin,’ Dock said, then got a wicked gleam and eyed him up and down. ‘I’m older, bet.’</p><p>The reaction was predictable and immediate. ‘I was decanted before all of you and I got the number to prove it!’ Nock screeched. </p><p>‘Not me!’ Vod 0 rebutted, and then it devolved into a free-for-all scuffle, as batchers do. </p><p>So I’m pretty sure they’re out there, telling people they’re twins but their tubes, plural, were actually filled with so much banthashit that their eyes are brown.”</p><p>“All our eyes are brown, Tup,” sighed Dogma, longsuffering.</p><p>“So you’re admitting you’re full of shit too, vod? Knew it!” Mixer crowed.</p><p>“Kriff off you little punk, I’ll show you brown!” Dogma rebuffed, pouncing on Mixer, who had short-sightedly baited a vod while he was still within smackdown range.</p><p>And then it devolved into a free-for-all scuffle, as vod’e do. </p><p> </p><p>This is how they put it to rest:</p><p>Later that night, approximately three minutes after lights out, a voice full of confusion broke the silence. </p><p>“Wait, why’d you call him vod 0 still if we already know his name is Score?” Del questioned.</p><p>“Oh, uh, see, I wasn’t going chronologically, sorry. Score got named after Nock, couple a months later,” Tup replied.</p><p>“Obviously he isn’t going by timeline if he told us post-Geonosis during the second story, ordinii,” Ringo sneered.</p><p>“What’s the order, Tup? Who got named first?” asked Lucky.</p><p>“Let’s see: Tango first, we aren’t exactly sure when, then Nail definitely as a Two. Dock when we were new Threes and Nock a week later. Score, then Bang by the end of Third cycle. Me and Tumble as Fourthers but before Bone, then Roger just days before we made Fifths.”</p><p>“There’s only <em>your own </em>story left,” realized Fives.</p><p>“Of <em> batcher name </em>stories. I’ll bet Tup never runs outta tales,” hoped Vaize.</p><p>“Lights out. Means. Go. To. SLEEP.” intoned Kix’s voice menacingly. </p><p>There was utter silence for thirty seconds.</p><p>Then a bunk squeaked, and hilarity burst forth from every corner of the bay. </p><p>Kix snarled, “That’s it, where’s my rebreather, I’ll just mass-dose by aerosol,” and the barracks were suddenly, gratifyingly, silent once more. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Tup Naming</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Excited??? Me too!<br/>Only this isn’t even the best part yet. <br/>Enjoy!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>This is how the rumor mill churned:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tup halted in the corridor, as ordered in battlesign by the ARC inside the barracks bay door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m telling you, it just seems </span>
  <em>
    <span>odd</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” ARC Echo was saying to a small cluster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He told us the stories though, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>none</span>
  </em>
  <span> of them were about ...</span>
  <em>
    <span>kriffing</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” doubted Denal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah well if you bang someone, or nail or bone or roger them, those all mean fucking,” Lucky asserted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shhh!” Coric hissed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, score can mean it too,” Ringo contributed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but dock and nock aren’t sex things,” Denal argued. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>sure</span>
  </em>
  <span> about that?” asked Echo, raising his eyebrows suggestively. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wha- wh- nope. I do not want to know. We Do Not Need To Know,” Denal declared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That sounds very cursed, Yaya, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> wanna know,” Cutup interposed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No you don’t; we DON’T!” Coric flailed, undecided which instigator’s mouth to try covering. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Echo’s grin expanded with promise. Surreptitiously by his hip, he signed to Tup (Advance).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tumble could mea-,” began Lucky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shhh, shut it!” and “He’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>coming</span>
  </em>
  <span>, cut it out,” Coric shushed and Denal alerted, speaking over each other anxiously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t want him to hear you talk smack about his batchers, he was all ready to fuck Flash up before,” extrapolated Lucky in a hurried whisper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s a pretty nice kid but I still don’t wanna get my face rearranged by his fist,” Ringo quickly agreed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Vod’ika can hit,” Echo nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, act cool,” Denal chided nervously. </span>
</p><p>Tup came through the doors and waved to the cluster.</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, what’s up Butter-Tup?” greeted Cutup.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ha ha. What’s up with you, cu-Tup wannabe?” Tup lobbed the insult back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got a shift bye!” Denal rushed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More like he gotta sh-,” Coric glared, “-go to fresher with that kinda hustle!” Lucky quipped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It got them laughing, and gave an excuse for the cluster to dissolve. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Later:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All right, Tup, I’m finally calling your IOU from that card game that got you into this whole storytelling business. Tell us about </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> Naming,” Five threw down one evening. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tup acquiesced, immediately of course. He sat up and tucked his hair back in preparation. The platoon beckoned to each other and gathered round, settling quickly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My Naming,” he began and then waited for everyone to hush.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, if you asked my batchers they’d tell you several different versions.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He put up his first finger, “There’s the one Tango favors where I mispronounced tip and top and tap as tup. I never did that. It’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lie</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He indicated two, “Then there’s Score and Roger’s version in which they named me after having to yell “Your hair! Do it up/put it up/tie it up” all the time. They were the two coded heavy fighters and despaired that I had a handle an enemy could grab, one that could obscure my vision as well. But they never suggested I cut it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good brothers,” commended Ince.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, they were. Helped me figure out the best twists, the ones that fit under the bucket and don’t come loose in battle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tup counted off three, “Nail’s version is that I was just as obnoxious as him, and worse because I did it mando-style. He’d ask how and why; I’d ask what for. ‘Tion’par? Tion’pah? Tiuh’pah? Tuh’pah? Tuh’p?’” Tup started with crisp, correctly accented mando’a and then gradually slurred it into a baby version that did sound an awful lot like his name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His fourth finger went up, “Dock says </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> was the one who named me. Tup, short for Tupperware, you know, those vacuu-seal Kaminoan lunchboxes? Because I was actually a storage container for food masquerading as a vod and if I had any objections I should, haha, put a lid on it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vod’e chuckled at the joke. They were all empty food bins, it felt like. High-performance fighters needed a lot of calories to maintain their fitness level. Some species could get sick from the amount of nutrients in one clone ration, and they got three a day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tup waved his hand, all fingers now extended, “Me? I just liked how it sounded. Not a very complex guy, here.” He folded his hands and stretched lazily, concluding the story. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s bullshit!” someone attempted to object but was swiftly quashed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We don’t get to judge names here, vod!” hissed what sounded an awful lot like Flash. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tup ignored the scuffle and muffled a laugh. It sounded like they might be finally catching on anyway, based on what he’d heard earlier. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Across several bunks, ARC Trooper Echo caught Tup’s eye, and winked. Tup flushed, smiled guiltily, and winked back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Captain Rex was too preoccupied with his dilemma to have seen the exchange. He itched to have something more definitive than a list of names with perfectly innocent, reasonable explanations.  But it would void his wager to interfere in even the slightest way. It was bad enough that he’d interacted in any way with the stories, but he figured it would be abnormal if he hadn’t. He’d draw the line at creating command tension in his own unit, kark you kindly, Kote. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rex did have good instincts for catching liars, despite being a poor liar himself. He didn’t think Tup had made up one word of any of those stories, but his bullshit detector was pinging anyway. He mulled over the data and toyed with his conclusions. He wrote a few lists. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Story order: Dock, Nail, Roger, Bone, Tango, Score, Bang, Tumble, Nock, Tup. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Batch #: Score, Nock, Nail, Tup, Bone, Bang, Tumble, Dock, Tango, Roger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Name Order: Tango, Nail, Dock, Nock, Score, Bang, Bone, Tup, Tumble, Roger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rex wrote a final list. It said:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bang- bang someone=</span>
  <b>fuck</b>
  <span> them</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nail- nail someone=</span>
  <b>fuck</b>
  <span> them</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Roger- roger someone=</span>
  <b>fuck</b>
  <span> them</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bone- bone someone=</span>
  <b>fuck</b>
  <span> them, erection</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Score- get laid, </span>
  <b>fuck</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Tango- takes two to (</span>
  <b>fuck</b>
  <span>)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tumble- in the hay? Yeah, </span>
  <b>fucking</b>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tup- </span>
  <b>fuck</b>
  <span>, but with sheep</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dock- </span>
  <b>fuck</b>
  <span> but with foreskins</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nock- uh obscure/indirect but v-shaped, slot a bow string into an arrow notch. And given the preponderance...welp. Alt perhaps k(nock)up- impregnate. by </span>
  <b>fucking</b>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sent it to Cody. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cody promptly sent the list back, with a big red X marked through the entire thing and the meme:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’ve connected the two dots</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You didn’t connect shit</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’ve connected them</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rex voice-commed him and forwent the greeting, “Cody, they are all from the same batch! It is absolutely not a coincidence.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cody retorted, “Quit whining,” and disconnected. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At this rate, Rex was going to need a signed, personally presented confession direct from Tup to Cody, and he couldn’t bring himself to impose that upon his shy, cheerful, shiny verd’ika. Although his ori’vod might </span>
  <em>
    <span>deserve</span>
  </em>
  <span> to have Torrent’s best tooka-eyes unleashed upon him. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. That Fucking Cycle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>THIS IS THE BEST PART.</p><p>*cackles gleefully*</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In the end, this is how it came out:</p><p>A trooper from 212th busted the whole thing wide open, to Cody’s chagrin. </p><p>The trooper heard Rex attempting to convince Cody once again, and hesitantly interrupted. “Actually, sir,” he said to Cody, looking apologetic, “Heard you mention Tup? He and I are from the same cycle. That ‘Effing’ Cycle? We maaaay have, uh, had a competition to see how many, ehem, well, uh, <em> sex </em> names we could get by with. I’m from Hardline batch, Shaft squad, named Gearshift, myself, sir, if you parse my meaning?”</p><p>Cody was speechless. Rex was simultaneously appalled and relieved to finally have backup and proof. </p><p>“I’m curious,” Rex speculated aloud tapping one finger to his lips, “how many names could there possibly be?”</p><p>“Out of 100, we managed over half of us named for either the act or the parts. Fifty-nine Alpha-approved, permanent names, or they didn’t count. Had to be smart so the Alphas wouldn’t pick up on our trends.</p><p>My squad was Snake, Wick, and Jigger, plus me and you know my squaddie Pintle, who was assigned here with me.” He gestured to a nearby trooper.</p><p>“If you don’t recognize the words, we’re all a bunch of, ah, deeces. Sirs.” The 212ther blushed upon noticing they had attracted a small crowd but soldiered on. “The other half of our batch was Upright squad: Python, Torpedo, Pud, Scythe, and Maypole. We were one of three batches with a full sweep, and proud of it, sir, to be honest. Tup’s batch swept it too, if I’m remembering it right.”</p><p>“You wouldn’t happen to know all of the names, would you?” Rex goaded, with a sly glance at Cody’s still gobsmacked face. </p><p>“Oh yeah, of course, sir,” said Pintle. “Between the two of us, (indicating himself and his squadmate) I think we can recall everyone.”</p><p>“Tup was from Kriff Batch, I don’t remember which squad, do you, vod?” Gearshift queried aside to Pintle. </p><p>“CK,” Pintle supplied, “so that’d be Classy as Kriff, with Score, Bone, Nail, Tup, and Dock.</p><p>The other half of Kriff batch was SK, Sassy as Kriff, and they had Nock, Tumble, Tango, Bang, and Roger.”</p><p>Cody managed to close his gaping mouth, finally, “You’re telling me I can look up any of these names and they really all mean ...fuck?”</p><p>“Yessir!” Pintle continued blithely, reporting mission-style, “The worst ones were the batch we called Those Kriffers. They had Allin Squad with Nook, Boff, Glaze, Clicket, and Mollock; and Allout Squad was Coit, Rutt, Trib, Romp, and Sammich.”</p><p>“Kriff Batch always said Sammich didn’t count cuz the implication didn’t stand alone, so Those Kriffers didn’t fully sweep it. That feud got ugly,” Gearshift interjected. Pintle and Gearshift grinned nostalgically. </p><p>“Then there was Genie squad: Gett, Growler, Grummet, Goolie, Gudgeon,” Pintle carried on. “Gudgeon was my bestie, you can tell by how our names are re- re- related,” he had to stop in order to giggle helplessly into his hand.</p><p>“Don’t forget about Gash, the honorary Genie. She always tagged along with them, can’t remember what batch lost the pleasure of her company,” smirked Gearshift. [AN: We support trans clones in this house; there are a bunch of them scattered through the fic even if they aren’t explicitly mentioned as trans. Because all of the genders are valid and I love every one of these bb’s.]</p><p>Gearshift continued, “Then there was the randos, because no one else managed a full squad.” Both the brothers started counting them off on their fingers. </p><p>“Cookie, Kitty, Clap, and Quim almost got it, their last squaddie ended up going with Lacey. They wanted Lingerie but the alphas nixed it,” Pintle started the litany, “not that Lingerie would have quite qualified them anyway.”</p><p>“There was Fletch, Cuckoo, and Fettle in one squad; and Hood, Dipstick, and Beaver in another,” Gearshift listed. </p><p>“Frot and Keyshank,”</p><p>“Peach and Richard,”</p><p>“Jink and Taco,”</p><p>“Venery, and Palliard (P-A-L-L-I-A-R-D, Pintle sign-spelled), those obscure-word weirdos,”</p><p>“That was all the pairs, and there’s four, no, five, singletons left, vod,” Gearshift calculated, “Johnson was one of those loners.”</p><p>“Yeah, and Jellybeans, Buckwild, and that one vod, Peter,” Pintle counted the last few out, thought hard and came up with, “Packer! Packer I always forget because we had to debate whether their name was for the uh, appendage or the action.” He quickly recounted to verify his accuracy and then nodded decisively. “Fifty-nine, sir.”</p><p>The vod’e that had gathered during this recitation were wheezing with laughter or grinning hard enough to hurt their cheeks. Commander Cody had his hand pressed firmly over his eyes, infinite weariness warring with amusement.</p><p>Gesrshift grinned cheekily, “And if you still don’t believe us, you can ask ARC Trooper Echo. He was the cycle before us, showed us the lexicons, and dared us to do our worst. What did you expect from a trooper with a name like <em> Banana </em>?” </p><p>A fresh burst of helpless laughter erupted from the crowd, and someone smack-talked, “Always Torrents, ain’t it?”</p><p>Rex wiped tears of hilarity out of his eyes, shaking his head. “Tossing an ARC under the AT-AT isn’t a real smart move, trooper,” he chided. </p><p>“Sir, I swear on the Template, his alpha-approved name is actually Eyayah, just so he could pull the double meaning! Ask him!”</p><p> </p><p>This is how officers deal with issues:</p><p>Rex stalked into Torrent central and pointed an imperious finger at Echo until he started to waver uncertainly, whereupon Rex strangled out, “Banana?” with the judgiest eyebrows. Echo’s eyes got wide and he started trying to edge toward the exit.</p><p>“Really?” Rex cried, exasperated, “You named yourself Clone and Banana in Mando’a??”</p><p>Suppressed giggles rippled through the room. </p><p>Rex’s ire and voice pitch increased, “And That Fucking Cycle <em> was </em> your fault?”</p><p>“Better run, vod!” Fives said gleefully, then faltered when Rex turned his glare upon him. </p><p>“You really think I’m gonna believe that Echo cooked that one up <em> all </em> by himself?”</p><p>“Eep!” Fives dashed after his partner in crime. </p><p>Off to one side, Rex heard troopers shift uneasily, and then Tup’s voice emerged, “Sir?” He sounded like he expected to be in trouble. Rex turned and beckoned him over. Tup reluctantly came forward. Rex laid his hands on Tup’s shoulders and raised one judgmental eyebrow. For a long moment no one moved or breathed. </p><p>Then a beaming grin broke over their Captain’s face. “You little Fuck.”</p><p>“Tup, actually, sir,” the cheeky little punk replied. </p><p>“Same THING!” Rex whooped, shaking the kid a little, good-naturedly. </p><p>Tup stifled a giggle, eyes shining wickedly. </p><p>“You kriffing Torrent LEGEND!” Rex gloated effusively and pressed his forehead against Tup’s, “I could not possibly be more proud, verd’ika!”</p><p>Tup couldn’t suppress his hysterical giggles any longer, or the wide-beam grin. Rex clapped him on the cheek and released him into the torrents.</p><p>“Commander Cody now owes me one (1) Unspecified Favor! Oya Torrent!”</p><p>The whole room roared back, “OYA TORRENT!”</p><p> </p><p>This is how his brothers got the final word: </p><p>As Tup was getting ready for bed that night, Dogma, Flash, and Cahoots blocked his way. The rest of the platoon was milling around, studiously not paying attention. The whole debacle in 212th had been recorded and made the rounds. Everyone had seen it by now.</p><p>Flash took a deep breath and spoke evenly, “So, what. You just made up all those stories?”</p><p>The accusation hung in the air for a long moment while Tup struggled to remember how to speak. They really thought he could disrespect the memory of his brothers like that? Dogma and Cahoots crowded close for support, and Flash looked penitent but firm in his decision to ask difficult questions. </p><p>“No,” he whispered, then more vehemently repeated, “No. All those stories were 100% real. And they did help us pick our names.”</p><p>Tup realized how carefully they’d picked the team to confront him. Flash, even doubting him, had brought Tup’s closest friends, to blunt the brunt of the blow. </p><p>He managed a crooked smile for his torrent brothers and added, “We just chose names from a very selective, well-curated list,” he smirked, “of Fucks.”</p><p>Laughter rolled across the barracks. The tension and Flash’s expression both eased. </p><p>“The game was to snatch all the best ones up front and trade them around til they fit. There was a lot of wrangling and competition involved. Occasionally fisticuffs. And my batch turned out to be the classiest Kriffers of all.” </p><p>Now everyone was laughing and chattering, and roughhousing had broken out in places. </p><p>“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, you classy fucker,” Flash grumbled into Tup’s ear, beneath the ruckus, “I’m Flash because I whipped off my kute and flashed a bunch of trainers once.”</p><p>Tup guffawed. Everything was alright once again in Torrent. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This entire story of Kriff Squad spawned in and was influenced by the Soft Wars discord server, while Echo’s name meaning is a joke from the New SW Canon discord server. I do not remember who came up with which names, but if you recognize yours and want me to credit you for it, I’ll be more than happy to. </p><p>Cahoots and Carapace are my OCs. Most of the rest of Torrent is canon I think, (-ish, what even is canon in SW these days?); the ones who didn’t have ao3 tags were: Ayar, Vaize, Lunn, Hez, Ged, Flash, and Cameron. Some of the Torrents may actually be from 327th Star. Let’s just pretend they got transferred at some point, ok? Gearshift is 212th canon, Pintle is not. The rest of the Fuckers are OCs, though I saw a canon clone Scythe somewhere. This is ...a different one, ok? Lol, this was a ton of fun, hope you all enjoy it as much as I did!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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